Mitchell, Georgia has a population of about 250; five being my family. I have lived in Mitchell for my whole life. Love floods the atmosphere with every step on Main Street. From trick-or-treating, to yard sales, to the annual Mitchell Spring Fest, the city houses countless family traditions. The tattered, elderly buildings and what seems to be ancient railroad tracks tell their own stories and prove the city has a heart of its own. With a blink, Mitchell would be missed entirely, but within the city limits lie some of my fondest memories. Every Halloween, Mitchell’s citizens gathers together and line Main Street with lawn chairs and folded tables to give out candy to children in costumes. Sugar rushed kids bundle up on hay rides, sipping hot chocolate, anxiously awaiting the next masked creature to appear from
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When the morning dew falls over the grass, trash bags are being opened for the first time in years, as the sellers prepare for the stampede. The wake up call is around 6:00a.m to obtain the best deals. Every house has a stand with something equally unique as the last. The thin layer of dust covering the surface is evidence that most items have not had the merest glimpse of daylight since the late 1990’s. It is a race for the best deals, and cutthroat competition. All to be heard are the silent yawns in the early morning and bargain hunters trying to talk their way to the lowest price. People leave with Wal-Mart bags full of clothing, antiquated house decorations, and unique items that can only be found on that day. Several Mitchell residents come to share the newest gossip with neighbors and friends, and take advantage of the free coffee. For others, the morning becomes a treasure hunt, although the treasure of the city is the Mitchell Spring Festival that comes in
When the morning dew falls over the grass, trash bags are being opened for the first time in years, as the sellers prepare for the stampede. The wake up call is around 6:00a.m to obtain the best deals. Every house has a stand with something equally unique as the last. The thin layer of dust covering the surface is evidence that most items have not had the merest glimpse of daylight since the late 1990’s. It is a race for the best deals, and cutthroat competition. All to be heard are the silent yawns in the early morning and bargain hunters trying to talk their way to the lowest price. People leave with Wal-Mart bags full of clothing, antiquated house decorations, and unique items that can only be found on that day. Several Mitchell residents come to share the newest gossip with neighbors and friends, and take advantage of the free coffee. For others, the morning becomes a treasure hunt, although the treasure of the city is the Mitchell Spring Festival that comes in